


Lucky Number 7

by zipadeea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Quidditch, Sirius Black Needs a Hug, Teenage Drama, and james is a good captain and friend, lily evans was an athlete don't fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 15:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15866847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zipadeea/pseuds/zipadeea
Summary: Lily Evans thought life at Hogwarts was busy enough for her, what with Prefect duties and N.E.W.T classes and meetings with the Slug Club. Then, Marlene convinces her to try out for the Gryffindor quidditch team.Written because James was a Chaser, and I'm convinced Harry's athletic abilities come from both sides of the family tree.





	1. Lily

**Author's Note:**

> This is old. I've just always liked this story of mine and wanted to post it here. Yeah, I know this didn’t actually happen. But if James was a Chaser, Harry had to get his Seeking skills from somewhere else, didn’t he ;) This is total wish fulfillment. Also, I just love the idea of girls and guys equally and competitively playing sports together in the seventies. It makes me happy. And Lily was athletic, because I want her to be athletic, and this is my story so she is.

Summer was nearing its end, and Lily Evans was content. Just two days ago she’d kissed her parents goodbye, and Floo-ed over to her lovely friend Marlene McKinnon’s home to spend the last three weeks of holiday with her and her family. An event which had led to this exquisite moment of contentment, with Lily and Marlene sitting on a blanket by a babbling brook, eating the sandwiches the McKinnon’s house elf Buttercup had made them.

Well, Lily was still eating. Marlene had already finished her sandwich, and proceeded to pull off her clothes, revealing the strappy red swimsuit underneath. Lily watched as Marlene waded and splashed in the water, smile on her face.

“C’mon, Lily! Come play with me!” Marlene whined.

Lily smiled more widely, “You sound six instead of sixteen right now, Marley.” Marlene answered with a well-directed splash right in Lily’s face, soaking her clothes and making the half-sandwich she had left grossly soggy.

“You’re in for it now, you witch!” Lily screeched, dropping the sandwich and running into the brook with her clothes still on, tackling her rather taller friend into the water. The tussle lasted a few moments, and ended with Lily clinging to Marlene’s back, feet wrapped around her waist, and Marlene with a fistful of dark red hair, both girls laughing hysterically.

“Ugh, now I’m all wet,” Lily complained as they exited the water, and Marlene towel dried herself and slipped into her still dry clothes.

Marlene handed the towel to Lily, a thoughtful look on her face, “Too bad we can’t use our wands to dry ourselves off. Just a few more months…” Marlene trailed off, and Lily nodded, also looking forward to the days when they could both use magic without restrictions.

“Oh! I’ve the perfect way for us to dry off. C’mon, Lily!” Marlene said, grabbing Lily’s hand as the two ran across the expansive yard towards a shed in the corner.

“But, what about the blanket and the basket and-,”

“Buttercup will get it.” Marlene said, cutting Lily off and running even faster. Lily accompanied her, a small frown on her face. Lily still wasn’t quite sure what to make of house elves. Everyone assured her they loved their lives and their jobs, the house elves included, but their existence and purpose still made Lily uncomfortable. Slavery was wrong…

Lily was pulled from her troubled thoughts by their arrival at the elusive shed. Excitedly, Marlene opened the door to reveal a collection of broomsticks, with a large trunk, filled with, Lily assumed, quidditch supplies, settled on the floor.

“We can fly around, maybe toss the quaffle a bit. The sun and the wind are bound to get you dry more quickly than just sitting around,” Marlene explained happily.

Lily grinned at her friend. When Severus had first told Lily she was a witch, flying on a broomstick was always the part she’d been most looking forward to. And when she did finally learn, that first week at Hogwarts, it was a like a dream. All her fears and apprehension, and the stress of the world she’d suddenly been dropped into seem to drift away behind her as she flew circles around her classmates. Master Jonas said she was a natural. And flying did feel natural to her, as easy as breathing.

Master Jonas had even gone so far, once he’d learned she was muggle-born, to explain quidditch to her, and encouraged her to practice and later try-out for the Gryffindor house team, once she figured out which position she liked most.

Lily had thanked Master Jonas for the advice, but hadn’t taken it. She was at school to learn, and though nobody liked to admit it, Lily was already at a disadvantage because she was muggle-born. She needed to study and work hard and do well in her classes. Plus, she’d never tell anyone, but Lily had snitched a quidditch magazine from the common room one night to look at broomstick prices. Buying a broom would be a stretch for her parents on the best day, and Lily certainly couldn’t justify the cost if she wasn’t even serious about the sport.

No, Lily Evans wasn’t meant to play quidditch. But that certainly didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy flying, or watching quidditch, or reading about it, or….well, maybe she was meant to play quidditch, but it just wasn’t in the cards for her.

“Sounds great,” Lily responded, watching as Marlene picked up her reliable Nimbus 600 up from the stack. Marlene was on the Gryffindor quiddtich team, had been for the past two years. She played chaser, along with Nigel Peakes and James Potter.

“Pick whichever broom you like, nobody will mind. My dad and brothers barely use theirs anymore,” Marlene finished, shaking her head in disgust at the thought of a broom going to waste. Lily nodded, and stuck her hand out, feeling the handle of each broom. It was more of a personal tic than anything, Lily couldn’t often keep her hands still and was very sensory, but when the handle of one broom shook beneath her hand and grew warm, she knew it was the one she was meant to ride.

“Ah, the good ole’ Cirrus 180,” Marlene said with an appreciative nod, “That’s my dad’s. Treat it well, and she’ll treat you even better. That’s what Dad always says, anyway,” Marlene finished with a fond roll of her eyes.

“Race you ‘round the house and back?” Lily asked excitedly, as she walked out of the shed and straddled the broom.

“You’re on!” Marlene replied, quickly mounting her own broom and kicking off the ground. Lily followed suit, and the girls spent the rest of the afternoon happily racing each other around the yard and tossing the quaffle.

Everything was fine, great even, until Marlene called for one final race before the girls went in for supper. So far, victory in their races had been split pretty evenly between the two girls for the afternoon. Marlene had more practice, and was very talented on a broom, but Lily was smaller, and on the windy day had less air resistance, lending her half the wins in the process.

“Ready….” Lily called, watching Marlene hover next to her in the air, “GO!” She shouted, and both girls took off at breakneck pace. Down the lawn with the wind at their back, Marlene had the edge on Lily. As they reached the McKinnon’s imposing manor house, Marlene went right, while Lily took left, the back of her broom brushing the brick as she raced madly around the house.

Above the front door, both girls met, zipping dangerously toward one another, each unwilling to give up hugging the house, and to gain the extra second pushing away to avoid collision would cause.  At the very last moment, Lily, realizing Marlene was ready to crash before losing, turned neatly away from the house, and curved herself around her best friend’s broom. Marlene smiled wickedly, and Lily stuck her tongue out at her before she was gone, rounding about the other side of the house just as Lily was about to do the same.

Once they reached the back lawn, Lily laid flat on the broomstick, trying to make up the ground she’d lost, but it was to be in vain. Marlene beat her back to the tree they used as a finish line by a hair, and braked hard, her hands raised above her head in triumph.

That’s when it happened. In a second, so quick that Marlene probably didn’t even notice it had occurred, Lily watched as the clasp of her best friend’s charm bracelet broke, and the high speeds and celebration of the moment before flung it away, in a high arch, straight for the deepest part of the brook.

Lily didn’t even think before throwing her whole body into the dive her broomstick suddenly made. She didn’t think about magic, or danger, or fear. She just knew the little piece of twinkling gold now falling toward the water below was absolutely her best friend’s most prized possession, and there was something she could do to keep it from being lost forever.

So Lily dove fifty feet, zipping through the trees and branches, ducking when she had to, all the while keeping her bright green eyes trained on the spot of gold now only five feet above the brook.

Lily stuck out her hand, and gave out a great whoop of delight when she felt the chain digging into her tight grasp. She slowed herself out of the dive, allowing her bare feet to drag in the water below her, before neatly pulling herself up to meet her friend once again.

“I believe you lost this, mademoiselle,” Lily said with a grin, dangling the gold bracelet in front of her friend’s face.

Marlene’s mouth was open in shock, her entire countenance the picture of disbelief as she stared at Lily, before finally outstretching her hand to receive the bracelet.

“I—you—I mean—Lily!” Marlene finally gasped, “That was—how on earth—where did you learn to fly like that?”

“I was just looking for a ‘thank you’,” Lily responded, blushing. She’d just done it to save Marlene, and by some extension, herself, some work and grief. Lily hadn’t been trying to show off, but it seemed Marlene was impressed.

“Lily, that was incredible! I hadn’t even realized I’d lost my bracelet yet, and you were already diving through the trees--looking like you were going to break your neck, by the way! How did you even _see_ it, Lily?”

“I-I don’t know,” Lily answered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Marlene was a very good and kind person, and a great friend, but she was never over-complimentary. Never. She was the one who told it like it was, the girl you could trust to be honest with you about a haircut you were thinking about or the new shoes you’d bought. Marlene’s complete 180 on Lily’s flying abilities was suddenly disconcerting.

“I haven’t seen flying that impressive since the last Tornadoes match I went to! You’ve been holding out on me, Lily, I never knew you could be so bold on a broom. And that catch, it was brill…” but Marlene stopped, face going slack before a manic grin lit up her face, as though she’d had an epiphany.

“You’re going to be our new Seeker.” It was a statement, not a question, and now it was Lily’s turn to be shocked.

“I-what? No, are you kidding me, Marley? I don’t even have my own broom!” Lily said, suddenly exasperated. Marlene was being ridiculous, big ideas after a fluke of a success on Lily’s part.

Marlene seemed to read Lily’s thoughts. “That was by no means a fluke, Lily Evans. That was raw talent, pure and simple. Imagine what you could do with practice! Gemma Frost graduated, and the new captain will be having try-outs for a Seeker anyway. It’s perfect! And don’t worry yourself about the broom, Dad hardly ever rides that thing anymore, and once he hears this story, trust me when I say he’ll give it to you with his blessing. He played Seeker in school, always hoped one of us would as well. Poor man got stuck with two Chasers and a Beater instead…”

“I can’t just _take_ your dad’s broom! This is all ridiculous!” Lily yelled, diving down to the ground and dismounting, ready to lock the broom in the shed and never return.

“You’re the one being ridiculous, Lily! You’ll take the broom, and all the advice my dad can give you because you’re meant to be a Seeker! It’s practically destiny!”

At that, Lily stopped in her tracks and turned around to look up at her tall friend, rolling her eyes in response.

Marlene was undeterred. “Lily, can you honestly tell me you don’t want to feel like that again? Don’t want the rush of the wind in your hair, the swoop in your gut when you nearly hit the ground but just miss it? Don’t want that feeling of pride and complete _bliss_ when you caught that golden bugger against all odds to save the day?

“Because that’s quidditch, Lily. That’s why we play, and that’s why we’re all crazy about it. It is literally the best high you’re ever going to get,” Marlene scoffed at her own pun before continuing, “Sorry. But really, you need to give it a chance. So far you’ve been a recreational flyer. With my help, and maybe my dad’s and brothers’ too, I can get you that feeling for the rest of our time at Hogwarts. What do you say?” Marlene finished, looking earnestly at Lily.

“Jesus, you should’ve been a Slytherin,” Lily muttered, and Marlene pumped her fist in triumph before jumping round in circles, knowing the battle had been won.

“Oh, Lily, this is going to be the greatest! I can’t wait for school to start now! We’ve got the Cup in the bag for sure this year!” Marlene shouted, hugging Lily tightly.

“For goodness’ sake, Marley, I probably won’t even make the team,” Lily responded, but Marlene’s good mood was infectious.

Lily couldn’t help but grin. She was going to practice quidditch. She had a fantastic broom she got to ride. And she was going to try out for _Seeker_ on the Gryffindor quidditch team, the position she’d most wanted to play since the day Master Jonas had explained quidditch to her nearly six years ago.

***

One month later found Lily Evans at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning, standing before the door to the Gryffindor locker room, waiting to be called inside. She stood amongst a gaggle of her peers, seventeen of them by her count, and gulped saliva down her tight throat once again. Seventeen people, trying out for only two positions.

Only the positions of Beater and Seeker needed to be filled on the Gryffindor quidditch team, and after the team’s narrow loss in the championship match last year, everyone with a broom was itching to join. Seventh years who’d been stuck on reserve for years, third and fourth years looking for a fresh opportunity. Teenagers, like Marlene, who’d spent their whole lives watching and playing quidditch with their families and friends.

Lily didn’t have a chance.

Once Marlene had declared Lily was ‘destined’ to be Seeker, the rest of their holiday had been filled with quidditch, quidditch, quidditch. Each morning Marlene had run Lily through the drills the Gryffindor team performed every practice, and in the afternoon, Marlene and Lily played what Mr. McKinnon lovingly called “Seeker Golf.”

Mr. McKinnon, as Marlene had predicted, was thrilled with Lily’s interest in Seeking. He loaned Lily his broom without hesitation, and asked her about practice that day every night at supper, after he returned from work at the ministry.

“Seeker Golf,” had less to do with the sport, and more to do with the objects used. To practice (because snitches were often temperamental, and catching them could take hours, and Lily needed the practice _now_ ) Mr. McKinnon bought a box of muggle golf balls, turned them gold with a flick of his wand, and produced a small slingshot. During Seeker Golf, Marlene stood of the ground with the slingshot, loaded a gold golf ball, and shot it every which way from Tuesday across the McKinnon’s expansive yard. Lily, on her broomstick, had to catch the ball before it fell to the ground. It was a simple game, but very effective. Lily loved it. By the last day of break, she didn’t miss one single catch playing Seeker Golf.

The real snitch had been introduced during the last week of break. It was a Sunday, and Marlene’s two older brothers and father joined Marlene to play two-aside quidditch, whilst Lily searched for the snitch among them. The first time it took her forty-five minutes to find and catch it. The second, twenty. The third, only seven. The McKinnon family had praised her talent and skills, assuring her that she was ready, that she absolutely had a chance of making the team.

Now, Lily wasn’t so sure. Unsure if she could keep from losing her stomach, Lily stood in the corner of the throng, looking away from the students gathered. If she kept thinking about who she’d be competing against, she would surely psych herself out.

“Students!” A familiar voice called, and Lily looked back to the locker room door to see Professor McGonagall standing in the entryway. “Form a line, please. I will be calling you in one at a time to prepare you for your quidditch try-out.”

Prepare them? What the hell was McGonagall doing here? Lily began to panic. She knew McGonagall had played quidditch in her youth. Maybe part of the try-out was answering questions about quidditch rules, and plays and formations. Lily could already feel her breathing quicken, she wasn’t prepared for an interview, she’d read _Quidditch Through the Ages_ three times but she’d really just begun playing quidditch, she didn’t know all the plays or the regulations or—

“Look alive, Evans,” a silky voice said directly behind her, and Lily turned around and looked up to find Sirius Black’s grey eyes trained upon her. Lily paid attention to the world around her once again and slipped herself into the forming line, in front of Black and behind a large fourth year she thought was named Michael.

“Morning, Sirius,” Lily said, fighting to keep her voice steady. Judging by the shark-like grin on Sirius’ face, Lily figured that she’d failed miserably.

“Bit nervous this morning, are we?” Sirius asked in a sing-song voice. Lily scowled.

Sirius laughed, “That’s all right, Evans, bit of nerves are good. It’s when you let the nerves take control that things get tricky,” Sirius said wisely. “I’d ask what you’re trying for, but I’m pretty sure I already know it’s Seeker.”

Lily nodded, looking down and back at the line they’d formed. Half the people were on the smaller side, lithe and, most likely, quick. The other half were tall, a few very burly, with wide upper bodies and thick arms. Lily would have said Sirius was one of the few who could fit into either category, but noticed a Beater’s bat gripped in one hand beside his leg.

She inclined her head to the bat, “Good luck with Beater,” Lily said, and Sirius smiled again.

“I’m just glad I won’t have to fight against you, Evans. You’re stubborn and full of surprises.” Lily was shocked into silence, unsure whether to be flattered or offended by Sirius’ wry compliment. Before Lily could think of responding, McGonagall called “Next!” and Lily realized the line in front of her had vanished while she’d spoken with Sirius, and she was now up.

“Go get ‘em, Lily,” Sirius whispered, and Lily opened the locker room door.

Professor McGonagall was standing in the middle of the locker room next to two boxes. One of the boxes was filled with red and gold fabric, the other black.

“Oh, Miss Evans, what a surprise! I’d no idea you were interested in quidditch,” McGonagall said, looking genuinely pleased.

Lily tried to smile, “You know me Professor, always ready to try new things.”

Professor McGonagall nodded, “Well, dear, you’ll need one of these,” she said, handing Lily a red jersey with a gold number ‘7’ on it. Lily slipped it over her head, as the professor continued, “And one of these,” McGonagall finished, handing Lily a ball of black fabric.

“A mask?” Lily asked, for once she’d unfolded the cloth it looked to Lily like a ski mask, with whited-out eye holes and an odd dark brown fabric over the mouth.

“Yes,” McGonagall responded, “Mr. Potter wants to ensure the try-outs are completely unbiased and fair.”

Suddenly, it clicked for Lily. This was because Sirius was trying out for beater. Potter wanted to be sure that if Sirius got the position, nobody could say it was just because Sirius was his mate.

Lily thought back to the days before school had started, when she and Marlene had run into Remus in Flourish and Blotts while buying school books, and Remus had told them in the course of conversation that James had been appointed Gryffindor quidditch captain.

Lily had always known it was a possibility, and Marlene spoke of it as a probability, but Lily had still hoped beyond hope that seventh year Keeper Kenneth Wayland would be captain instead of James. Even better, that Marlene would be made captain, but that hope had been dashed when their Hogwarts letters arrived.

When Lily knew James Potter was quidditch captain, she was ready to quit. It already would have been difficult enough to _play_ on the same team as the boy (if she made the team), even a sport as enjoyable as quidditch. But knowing she’d have to take direction from an arrogant show-off like James Potter for even a try-out made her gag.

“No, Lily, don’t let this put you off,” Marlene had begged her once they were back from Diagon Alley, “You don’t understand. I know you and James don’t see eye to eye, but he’s very different with quidditch than he is with school. He takes it very seriously, and I’m positive he’ll be professional about all of this. Just wait and see.”

“It’s honestly pretty impressive,” Marlene had said, once she was sure Lily would still try-out despite the less than ideal circumstances, “James hardly puts any effort into school and still gets great marks. If he put the same effort into school he puts into quidditch, he’d probably have 12 O.W.L.s right now.”

As Lily pulled on the mask, tucking her dark red hair up and completely in the cap, she couldn’t help but be slightly impressed by James Potter’s initiative. Maybe Marlene was right…

“All right, and you’re….Number seven.” Professor McGonagall said, writing something down on a clipboard, “I’m the only one with a roster. I’ll give it to the team once try-outs are over if they’d like to see it. Go on out then, Ms. Evans. And good luck,” she finished, twinkle in her eyes.

“Thanks, Professor,” Lily said, jumping at the deep voice that said it, instead of her own.

Professor McGonagall grinned, “That’s a bit of fancy Charms work by Mr. Potter. Your voice will be changed while you wear the mask, so you remain completely anonymous throughout the try-out.

Lily nodded, got a good grip on Mr. McKinnon’s beloved Cirrus 180, and headed out to the pitch.

In the middle of the pitch, the five returning members of the Gryffindor quidditch team huddled together, obviously discussing something. Lily could see Marlene’s long blond hair standing next to the wild, black bed-head that Potter deemed acceptable to be viewed by the public.

On the outer edge of the group was Kenneth Wayland, his hulking figure casting a slight shadow over the huddle, even on this slightly cloudy day. Kenneth was a quiet boy who looked very intimidating, but Lily knew him to be a gentle giant. He was a modest and calm person, whose huge body belied his grace on a broom.

Red-headed fifth year Gideon Prewett was talking to fourth year Nigel Peakes. Gideon was the remaining Beater on the team; his older brother and other beater Fabian had finished school last year. Nigel was the youngest on the team as of now, and had joined just last year. He was still a bit short and wiry, and his light brown feathery hair gave him a mousy appearance, but Lily knew he was quick on a broom and had wicked aim. 

Those trying out were scattered throughout the pitch, anonymous due to their masks, and Lily realized even the numbers of their jerseys were out of order. 17 was talking to 12 by the southern quidditch hoops, 5 was hovering in lazy circles on the other end of the pitch, and 2,8, and 10 were still huddled close to the locker room door.

Deciding she was once again psyching herself out, Lily moved to a corner by herself and began stretching as she always did before practicing with Marlene. After ten more minutes, Professor McGonagall followed what must have been the final student out of the locker room (Number 3), and made eye contact with Potter across the pitch. Potter nodded, and whistled before motioning for everyone to join the team in the middle of the pitch.

“All right,” Potter said, once everyone had gathered around him, “First, thank you all for coming out. I know many of you have practiced long and hard to prepare for this day, and I respect and thank you for your efforts.

“Unfortunately, there are seventeen of you here to try-out, and we only have two positions on the team to fill. After last year’s try-outs, there were a few complaints about the fairness of the proceedings. Prior to today, some of you shared similar worries with me about this year. Thus the masks you all have on today.

“I’m sure you’re all beautiful, wonderful people,” Potter said with a wry grin, “but for the next couple hours, you will all just be numbers to the five of us, and we’ll be judging you on your quidditch skills alone.

“Throughout the try-outs, we will be periodically dismissing people based on their performance, until we are left with one Beater, and one Seeker. If you are dismissed, you’re welcome to continue watching the try-outs, or you may leave, but please drop your mask and jersey off in the locker room when you go. Any questions?”

Nobody spoke.

“Brilliant,” Potter said. “So to begin, I’d like you to break up into three groups, 1-6, 7-12, and 13-17. We’ll be watching each group fly around the pitch, then run through some standard team practice drills.

As she’d been flying and doing similar drills for the past month, Lily found these tasks absurdly easy and didn’t see their use in a try-out. However, but the end of the last drill, three people had already been dismissed. Lily felt her stomach lurch; she wasn’t sure if it was in excitement or fear as she watch 3, 17, and 12 trudge through the locker room door.

“All right, now I’d like you to divide by position. Beaters, if you could line up by Marlene, we’re going to test you first. Seekers, sorry to make you wait, if you’ll please wait by Nigel, we’ll come back to you later.”

Sad that Seekers couldn’t go first and she could just have this over with, Lily walked over to Nigel and plopped herself onto the grass of the pitch next to 5.

“God, I hate waiting,” 5 said in a grumbling voice.

“Yeah, this is awful,” Lily agreed, in a voice just as deep. She giggled at her voice, but the rumbling laugh that erupted sounded so villainous and awful that she just laughed harder. Soon, the other five people trying out for Seeker joined in, adding to the grumbling cackle.

Nigel chuckled along with them, before a pointed glare from Potter had him suggesting they quiet down and let the Beaters concentrate.

To Lily’s astonishment, the Beaters weren’t yet even on brooms. Potter had them lined up on the side of the pitch, and the first in line had been given a cricket bat. The Seekers were too far away to hear what was going on, but it seemed each Beater had five pitches from Potter to hit as far as they could. Kenneth stood nearby taking notes, while Marlene threw back any balls to Potter that were missed by the Beaters.

Of the eight Beaters who swung the cricket bats, five moved on to the next challenge. Lily watched as Potter set up a target on the other side of the pitch, then Gideon demonstrated throwing a bludger sized ball to himself and using a Beater’s bat to squarely hit the target.

Each Beater got three tries. Of the five, only three hit the target.

The final three Beaters were finally called to pick up their abandoned broomsticks, and were each given a Beater’s bat. With a flick of his wand, Potter made the target on the ground fly around the pitch, and further down the field, Marlene released the bludgers from their box. Kenneth flew lazily around the pitch holding a quaffle, and Lily finally realized the goal of this challenge; the Beaters were meant to not just hit the target, but also protect Kenneth.

Only one of the Beaters, Number 15, seemed to grasp this idea. The other two wildly flew around the pitch, searching for a bludger so they could be the first to hit the target. 15 stayed close to Kenneth, and when both bludgers ended up careening toward Kenneth at the same time, 15 quickly and neatly smashed both into the middle of the flying target in succession.

The other two beaters landed and dejectedly stomped off to the locker room, while 15 punched his fist in the air and floated to the ground.

“Congratulations, 15. Impressive display today. We would love it if--,” Potter began.

“Prongs, it’s me!” a voice interrupted, and 15 pulled off his mask to reveal the handsome, and completely excited face of Sirius Black.

James Potter’s face lit up in shock, a shock so pure and elated Lily knew it was real.

“Yes!” Potter shouted, his professional façade forgotten for a moment as he embraced his best friend, “Oh, this is brilliant,” Potter said, as the rest of the team walked over to congratulate Sirius on his new position.

After a few minutes of this, Seeker Number 13 began to wave their hand and shouted, “Oi! Potter! Will we get our turn soon?”

Even from across the pitch, Lily could tell Potter was blushing. She watched as he jogged down to their side of the pitch and stopped in front of them, still a bit breathless from excitement.

“Er, yes, sorry about that, your turn now. Because you’ve had a bit of a break, we’ll give you ten minutes to stretch and fly a bit to get warmed-up before we start your try-outs, yeah?” The seekers all nodded. Lily did her stretches again, then picked up her Cirrus 180 and did a couple laps around the pitch before Potter called them back.

“All ready then? Great, let’s get started. Our first drill’s what my friend likes to call ‘Seeker Golf’,” Potter said, but the rest of his explanation was drowned out by the buzzing in Lily’s ears, and a grin, hidden by the mask, spread across her face. Seeker Golf. She was good at Seeker Golf, great in fact. For the first time since the try-out began, Lily really thought she had a chance.

It was to be best of five. The golf balls were even painted gold, just as hers at the McKinnon’s house. The first Seeker only caught two, but the second caught four of the five. Then, Lily was up.

The first three balls were easy, simply pop-ups across the pitch Lily could catch in her sleep. The fourth, Potter faked her out, and pretended to pull back far on the slingshot, while delivering a very short ball. Lily still caught it, sliding in quite literally under Potter’s nose, so close she could see the stupid smirk on his face.

“All right, last one,” Potter said with a grin, firing the ball in almost a line drive, with a slight arch, all the way across the pitch. Lily flew faster than she ever had before, catching up to the ball, but unable to pass it before it fell to the ground.

Instead, Lily found herself rolling over in midair, and catching the ball in her left hand whilst upside down. She completed the roll, golf ball clutched securely in her hand, and pull up quickly to avoid crashing into the side of the pitch.

Five for five.

Feeling smug, Lily returned to the other side of the pitch and threw the golf ball at Potter a bit more forcefully than was necessary. He still caught it though, so Lily didn’t feel very guilty.

“Impressive, Number 7,” Potter said with a nod, before moving on to the next seeker. The following two caught three of five apiece, and the final seeker, Lily’s friend Number 5, caught, ironically, five balls as well.

The other four seekers were dismissed, leaving Lily and 5 staring at each other in the middle of the pitch.

“All right then,” Potter said, a sly smirk on his face, “Here’s where it really gets fun. Marlene and I are going to blindfold both of you,” Lily watched as Marlene took a strip of fabric and wrapped it around 5’s whited out eyes, just as Potter did the same to her and the world went black.

Potter smelled good, Lily realized suddenly, as though the absence of her sight had strengthened her sense of smell. He smelled like evergreen, and cotton, and toothpaste, and…

“Okay, then,” Potter continued, stepping away from Lily, “Neither of you can see, right?” Lily shook her head. “Perfect. Marlene is releasing the Snitch right now, we’ll give it a minute to fly about. I’ll count down from three, and when I say ‘go’, take off your blindfold and get on your broom. First one to catch the snitch will be our new Seeker.”

They waited a moment in silence, Lily picking her nails nervously with one hand, dancing from one foot to the other.

“Three….Two….One….GO!” Potter shouted, and Lily ripped off her blindfold and mounted her broom. She was up in the air in less than three seconds, with 5 a few seconds behind.

The extra two seconds did Lily no favors. The needn’t have rushed; the snitch was nowhere in sight. For ten minutes Lily and 5 flew aimlessly about the pitch, each searching in vain for that glint of gold.

Five minutes later, Lily spotted it, and it could not have been under worse circumstances. Lily was on the south side of the pitch, and the snitch was hovering by the topmost of the northern hoops. Number 5 was plopped directly in the middle of Lily and the snitch.

By some stroke of luck, in that moment 5 was looking away from both the snitch and from Lily, but Lily knew that couldn’t last for long. If she took off for the snitch at that moment, 5 would see, and could probably reach the snitch before Lily even had a chance of catching it.

Unwilling to let that happen, she knew it was time to do something drastic. Before she had even fully committed to the idea, Lily found herself pelting full speed for the lower western wall of the pitch.

Assuming she had found the snitch and he was behind, 5 dove down as fast as he could to meet her. To make a show of it, Lily outstretched her hand as though to catch the snitch. From the corner of her eye, Lily saw 5 coming closer and closer, as the western wall loomed in front of them both.

Just as 5 was about to collide with her, Lily rolled her body around her broom, as she’d just learned during her final catch of Seeker Golf. She heard a crash behind her, but didn’t look back as she turned and kicked off the western wall, hurtling to the northern goal post where the snitch was still hovering lazily.

Triumphant, Lily snatched the golden ball from the air and held it close to her chest, taking her first deep breath of the day. She did it.

She did it.

Lily Evans was the new Gryffindor Seeker.

Shocked, Lily turned her broom around, and flew back to where the team had crowded around Number 5 by the western wall. Lily watched as Kenneth offered 5 a hand to help him up, and James patted him on the back.

As Lily landed twenty feet away, she watched as 5 took off his mask to reveal the very amiable, if slightly bloodied, face of Frank Longbottom.

“Good show today, Frank,” Potter said to him cheerfully, “We’ll have you on the reserve roster, feel free to stop by practice whenever you like.”

“I’m so sorry, Frank,” Lily said, approaching them, her voice still deep from the mask, “Are you all right?”

Frank grinned, “The only thing bruised today is my ego,” Frank said, “Well, and perhaps my nose, but Madame Pomfrey can fix that. “But you! That was spectacular flying today. I don’t know whether to be honored or ashamed that you actually pulled a Wronski Feint on me.” Frank finished, sticking out his hand to her.

Lily took it, dazed. Now that she thought about it, Lily really had pulled the legendary Wronski Feint. She hadn’t meant to exactly, at the time all she’d really been thinking about was getting 5, well Frank, away from the snitch. Maybe she understood more about quidditch plays than she’d originally thought…

“All right, Lucky Number 7, it’s about time we know who our new teammate is,” Potter said, clapping her on the back. Heart pounding, Lily reached up the hand not still clutching the snitch to drag the black mask off her face, shaking out her mane of long red hair.

“YEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!!!!!” Someone screeched, and suddenly Lily’s vision was filled with scarlet, and someone was clutching her so tightly she thought she might break a rib, spinning her around in circles.

“I’m gonna be sick, Marley,” Lily mumbled, and Marlene laughed out loud, but set her down.

“You fly like _that_ and think that I’m the one who’s going to make you sick,” Marlene said, shaking her head in mock shame, though she couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

“I knew it! I knew it was you, when I saw you picking your fingers before you took off, you always do that when you’re nervous…Oh, God, this is absolutely the best day ever, you were so spectacularly amazing, wait ‘til we write Dad, he’s going to be so proud of you, Oh, Lily!” Marlene gushed, a mile a minute. Marlene’s praise nearly brought a tear to her eye.

Lily didn’t let it fall there though. Instead, she turned to face the rest of her new team.

“Congrats, Evans, I’d no idea you had it in you,” Nigel said appreciatively. Kenneth nodded his agreement. Gideon, a friend of Lily’s since she’d tutored him in Potions, gave her a hug.

“You didn’t tell me you could play quidditch!” Gideon said in fake anger.

“I didn’t know I was any good until a month ago,” Lily said with a shrug of her shoulders. The statement shocked everyone present into silence.

“See, Prongs,” Sirius finally said, clapping Potter, who hadn’t moved since Lily removed her mask, on the back. Potter looked utterly gobsmacked.  “She is the most stubborn and surprising person you will ever meet in your life. Aren’t you, Lily?” Sirius asked with a grin, and Lily shrugged her shoulders again, smile on her face.

Lily’s smile seemed to shock Potter back into movement and he smiled back, offering her a hand. “Welcome to the team then, Lucky Number 7. We’re happy to have you around.”

Lily took the proffered hand. Potter’s grasp was firm and warm.

“Thanks, James. I’m happy to be here.”

***

The first match is in November, against Slytherin. Lily doesn’t sleep the night before. Nervous and excited, Lily catches the snitch from under Regulus Black’s foot seven minutes after the first whistle blows.

James pretends to be angry, since he only had time to score two goals, but Lily knows that he’s elated.

The second match is in February, on a blustery, cold day against Hufflepuff. With the wind and snow, it takes both Seekers an hour and a half to spot the snitch. Lily narrowly beats Macmillan to the snitch, but is hit in the head by a bludger right after she catches it. She wakes up in the hospital wing the next morning, with James asleep in a chair by her bed, a silvery invisibility cloak pooled in his lap.

The third match is in May, against Ravenclaw. In order to win not just the match, but the cup as well, Lily must wait until Gryffindor is up by seventy points.

The wait is agony, but Marlene scores two goals, Nigel one, and James five in a short span, and Kenneth lets in only one goal. Lily can catch the snitch.

With a start that makes her want to both laugh and cry at the irony, Lily spots the snitch on the northern goalposts whilst she is on the south side of the pitch. Ravenclaw’s Elise Boot rests directly between her and the quidditch cup.

As she did before, Lily fakes for the western wall, rolls herself over, turns and kicks off the wall, and listens as Elise crashes behind her before swiping the snitch out of the air, triumphant once again.

Six blurs come hurtling toward her, but it is James who reaches her first, James who pulls her into a crushing hug.

James who kisses her in midair in front of the entire school.

And the rest is history.


	2. James

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James' POV because why not? Also, all I know about cricket I learned from google so sorry.

James Potter was content. It was summer, he had a month left before he even had to think about doing schoolwork again, the weather was lovely, and his best mate had come to stay at his house for—well, forever possibly, which, when one forgot about the extenuating circumstances, was rather brilliant.

“C’mon, James, pitch it!” Sirius whined, pulling James back from his musings. Sirius was standing in front of the wicket, knees bent and bat at the ready, waiting for James to pitch the ball. James smirked at him and wind-milled his arm around, releasing the heavy red ball and letting lose a wickedly fast pitch, aimed straight for the wicket behind his friend.

Sirius hit the ball with a resounding crack, and both boys watched as the ball sailed away, over a lonely evergreen tree and beyond the oval boundary James’s father had drawn for them yesterday.

Sirius raised his fists over his head, bat still held tightly in one, jumping around in circles. Once he finished his victory dance, Sirius lowered the top of the bat to his mouth, and used it as a fake microphone.

“And that’s another six runs to Black, who edges out Potter for the third time today, on his home field no less! The crowd goes wild!” Sirius shouted, producing his own sound effects for the noises of the nonexistent crowd.

James grinned at him ruefully, and couldn’t help but compare this Sirius to the bedraggled boy who’d shown up on their doorstep in the middle of the night just a fortnight ago. Sirius’s lip had been split that rainy night, his eye blackened, and he had his arm wrapped around his ribs as though they’d pained him.

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” Sirius had admitted to the Potter family tearfully, after he’d been ushered inside to sit on the settee by the fire.

“Of course you do, sweetheart,” James’s mother had told him firmly, grabbing Sirius’s hand and pulling him into a gentle hug before ushering him to the washroom to fix him up.

“Go get an extra set of your pajamas, James,” his father had told him, once they realized Sirius had nothing with him but his wand, his broomstick, and the clothes on his back.

The next night, James and Sirius walked into the guest room Sirius was using to find Sirius’s possessions filling the space: his school trunk was sitting at the end of the bed, his clothes filled the wardrobe by the wall, and his books were settled on the shelf above the desk. Even some of his favorite pictures and posters adorned the walls.

“I couldn’t get all the posters,” James’s dad said behind them, “Your Permanent Sticking charms are exemplary, Sirius, I must say.” He’d finished with a smile.

Sirius had stared around the room in open-mouthed shock, his eyes bright. “Mr. Potter, how—why—I—wow,” Sirius stuttered, “Thank you, sir,” he’d finally said softly, fingering an old quilt draped over the edge of the bed that James knew he was fond of.

Mr. Potter had clapped Sirius on the back and nodded. And Sirius had been with the Potters ever since.

“Yeah, well, if you want to play another round, you can go get the ball back this time. I’m tired,” James harrumphed, sitting on the ground, and Sirius laughed at him.

“What, worn-out from chasing my balls already, Prongs?” Sirius said suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. James rolled his eyes, and watched as his friend jogged off after the red blip in the distance.

James laid back in the grass, feeling the sun wash over his face as he closed his eyes, enjoying the quiet moment. Sirius had been hesitant to play cricket yesterday, unsure of the rules and still a bit leery of anything Muggles considered fun because of his upbringing. But Sirius had taken to cricket like a duck to water, especially batting, smashing James’s most difficult pitches into the distance with ease.

James sat up suddenly, opening his eyes, to see Sirius halting his jog a few feet in front of him, bat and ball in hand.

“Damn, I wanted you to stay like that so I could try that trick where you _almost_ drip saliva on to the person’s face, then they open their eyes and you suck it all back in--,” Sirius explained, but James ignored it and interrupted.

“You should be a Beater,” James said simply, looking up at his friend.

Sirius looked at him quizzically. “On the quidditch team, you mean?”

“No, in the kitchen to mix cakes,” James said sarcastically, standing up. “Yes, I mean on the quidditch team. You’d be brilliant at it.”

Sirius tilted his head to the side, eyes scrunched. “Huh.”

James understood the reaction. For most of his life, Sirius had fancied himself a Chaser, and he’d tried out for the position on the quidditch team the past three years only to come back each time disappointed. Losing it to James third year hadn’t been so bad, his disappointment mostly smothered by excitement for his friend. Losing to Marlene fourth year had been a bit harder because he was older than the year before, and she was a _girl_ , no matter how talented or capable she may be.

It was losing to little third year Nigel Peakes during try-outs last year that had been the most bitter pill for Sirius to swallow. For, not only had a mousy little boy won the position instead, but Sirius no longer had a chance of playing on the Gryffindor quidditch team.

Or so they’d thought.

“Think about it, Padfoot,” James said, earnestly, “Fabian’s gone, and we’re going to need a new Beater this year. And being a Beater really isn’t any different from being batter in cricket, and you’re already great at that--,”

“Isn’t any different!” Sirius exclaimed incredulously, “Except for the tiny fact that, oh, cricket’s played on the ground and in quidditch you’re fifty feet in the air on broomsticks!”

James waved him off, “I’ll practice with you. You’ve already got the power, which is the part that can’t be taught. We can spend the rest of summer doing target practice, working on your aim, and your swing while you’re in the air. We have a month before school starts, plenty of time to get ready for try-outs.”

Sirius was quiet for a moment, staring at him.

“You’re serious?” He asked, and James couldn’t help but grin.

“No, you are,” he quipped, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Sirius, I’m serious. I think you should be a Beater, and I will practice with you to make sure you become one.” James said solemnly, and Sirius smiled, beginning to warm up to the idea.

“Well, all right, coach. When do we start?”

*********

James spent the next two weeks preparing Sirius for quidditch tryouts. James had dragged his mother’s old archery targets out of the cellar, and Sirius practiced his aim by tossing the cricket ball to himself and swinging for the target. By the third day of practice he couldn’t miss.

Pleased, James moved on to broomsticks, and tossed the ball to Sirius whilst making the target fly around the yard with a flick of his wand. This drill was tricky because, though the Ministry wouldn’t know it was _him_ who performed the magic, James was still underage until next March, and his parents would give him a scolding to remember if he was caught.

Sirius was worth the risk, though.

And not just because he was James’s mate and this was making him happy. Sirius was good, excellent even, and as a returning member of Gryffindor quidditch team, his performance certainly made James excited for the future.

And then, their Hogwarts letters arrived.

James felt his stomach swoop down to his toes as he retrieved the two envelops from the snowy white owl, passing Sirius his, and opening up his own thicker and heavier one.

James dumped the envelope, ignoring the letter and booklist to reveal a tiny scarlet pin, with a golden lion and “Captain” emblazoned at the top.

“Good one, James,” Sirius said from behind him, patting him on the back.

James knew being named captain was a possibility for him this year, but he hadn’t allowed himself to hope for it. Kenneth Wayland was a year older than him, and Marlene McKinnon was just as qualified. Even Gideon Prewett, going into fifth year, wouldn’t have been out of the realm of possibility.

But James had been on the team longer than all three of them. And James was the one McGonagall had chosen to be captain this year.

With a happy grin, James turned around to thank Sirius before stopping in his tracks. Sirius looked…odd. His face was twisted as though he was trying to smile, but couldn’t actually manage it. Instead, his mouth and eyes were locked in a scrunched up grimace that just served to make Sirius look severely constipated.

“What’s wrong with you?” James asked quickly.

“Nothing, what are you talking about? I’m happy for you,” Sirius said.

He was lying through his teeth.

At first James was confused, before becoming very angry. Sirius was James’s best mate, he knew how much James loved quidditch, how hard he worked at it. How could Sirius _not_ be happy for him? He couldn’t possibly be jealous of James being captain, he wasn’t even on the quidditch team yet….

He wasn’t on the quidditch team yet.

And James was going to be in charge of tryouts. He was going to make the final decision for the new Beater and Seeker this year.

Oh.

“You’re still trying out.” James stated, and grew angry as he saw Sirius shaking his head, “Yes, you are. Sirius, you’ve worked too hard for this--,”

“Oh, c’mon, James, you saw how angry everyone got after Fabian put Gideon on the team last year, even after he walked away with it at the tryout. I’m nowhere near as good as Gideon. And honestly, can you be unbiased when it comes to me? Because I’m pretty sure I couldn’t if our places were switched.”

James was quiet for a moment, contemplating Sirius’s words. Could he be unbiased in a tryout for Sirius? Even if Sirius was having a bad day, James could simply justify putting him on the team with his performance practicing this summer, which wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the field at the actual tryout.

Finally, James said, “First, you’re selling yourself and your Beating skills short. You’re excellent, and could certainly give Gideon a run for his money. And second, well….We’ll think of something. I don’t want my being captain to put anyone off trying out, especially not you. It will all work out.”

Sirius shrugged, not giving James an answer.

***********

It was rainy that day, and the boys couldn’t go out to practice quidditch. They played chess for a while, before moving on to Gobstones, then Exploding Snap, before finally deciding they were absolutely tired of games and the rain was a terrible, terrible thing. That afternoon found James and Sirius in Mr. Potter’s study, Sirius reading a novel and James writing a letter to Remus.

At least, James was meant to be writing a letter to Remus. Sitting in front of a nearly blank piece of parchment, with only “Dear Remus,” written at the top hardly counted as writing a letter. But James was still distracted. How on earth could he make the quidditch tryouts fair?

“James, Sirius, where are you?” James heard his mother call down the hall. She been down the road at her Muggle friend Linda’s house for tea.

“In the study, Mum,” James called back, and his mother popped her silvery blonde head through the door.

“Ah, there you boys are. Bored yet?” She asked with a knowing wink, and both boys nodded tiredly, “Perfect. We’re going to the cinema.”

James immediately popped out of his seat, completely excited. His mother was a pureblood, but she’d had an uncle who was a squib who married a Muggle, resulting in his mum’s knowledge and interest in Muggle culture. As a child on rainy days, she and James would often drive down to the village in her old Ford to go to the cinema.

“C’mon Sirius get up, go get your jacket. What are we seeing, Mum?” James asked quickly. Sirius looked very confused.

“What’s the cinema?” Sirius asked, and not for the first time James thought that he friend really could have benefited from taking Muggle Studies.

“It’s where people go to see the Muggle moving picture shows,” Mrs. Potter answered kindly, “And we’re going to see something called _The Stars War_ or something like that. James, dear, grab the pound notes out of your father’s desk.” She finished, and James did as his mother bid, handing the old leather wallet stuffed with pound notes to his mother.

“Sounds wicked,” James replied, smiling at a still hesitant Sirius as the three made their way out of the office and down the stairs to the front door.

“Are you coming?” James asked, looking back at Sirius who still stood in the doorway whilst James and his mother piled into the small car.

“I’ve never ridden in a car before,” Sirius said. James realized he was nervous.

“It’ll be fine, I promise. Mum’s a great driver, never been in an accident once. And, the village is just down the road, two turns and we’ll be there. It won’t take more than five minutes.”

“All right…” Sirius finally agreed, sitting in the backseat. Mrs. Potter turned back and helped Sirius with his seatbelt.

During the ride, Sirius fiddled with the roll down windows in the backseat, at one point smiling as he stuck his head out the window and into the rain. James nearly laughed out loud when he saw it. Sirius really was a dog.

At the cinema, Mrs. Potter gave James a few pound notes, and he took Sirius along to the concession stand to get some snacks while she got the tickets. James got some popcorn and soft drinks, and a Mars bar for Sirius, because everyone deserves to eat a Mars bar in his lifetime.

The movie was a lot of fun and very interesting, but James had much more fun watching Sirius’s reaction to the experience. His friend was absolutely giddy, like a third year in Honeydukes for the first time. Sirius was unquestionably convinced that Hollywood must be filled with a bunch of wizards to create something as magical as _The Star Wars_. Sirius was also convinced he and the ruggedly handsome Han Solo were long lost cousins by the end of the film.

But the true hero of the movie to James was, ironically, Darth Vader. For his black mask, with the reflective eye plates and the built in voice changer gave James just the idea he needed to give Sirius a fair chance at playing quidditch.

*******

A month later found James Potter on a Saturday morning, sitting in the Gryffindor locker room with the one and only Professor McGonagall.

“Thanks for agreeing to help out Professor, I really appreciate it,” James said, using his fingernails to cut the spellotape sealing the cardboard boxes beside him.

“It’s not a problem, Mr. Potter, I’m happy to help. However, I’m not quite sure I understand exactly why you need me this morning.” McGonagall answered, looking at him over the top of her square spectacles.

“Weeeellllll, you see, Professor, a lot of people weren’t very happy with the results of tryouts in the last couple years, said they were conducted unfairly. So, I’ve decided to make it completely fair.”

McGonagall eyed him shrewdly. James had grown much taller than her in the past few years, but she still had a way of making him feel very small.

“And how, pray tell, have you managed that?” she finally asked, curious.

James opened the cardboard box, and revealed one of the black masks, pulling it over his head.

“With this,” James answered, his voice deepened considerably by the mask, his hazel eyes hidden behind the whited out frames.

“Oh, my!” Professor McGonagall started, hand to her chest, shocked by the deep voice that answered. “Well, that’s certainly impressive, Potter. However did you manage it?”

James pulled off the mask and smiled. “I had to get some help from Professor Flitwick, but basically it’s a derivative of the Sonorous Charm. Took me a bit to figure it out, but we got there.”

Professor McGonagall nodded, “So, my job will be….” James stared at her for a moment, not used to giving direction to a teacher.

“Oh, yeah, er, just to keep it fair, we’d like you to call the players in one at a time, and give them each a jersey and a mask. Don’t let them leave ‘til they’ve put them both on. Then, if you could write their name down and the number they’re wearing on the clipboard behind you that would be great. We’d like to see it after the tryout is over, to help us figure out reserve roster and such.”

Professor McGonagall nodded again, looking pleased. “It seems you thought of everything, Mr. Potter. I’ll begin calling them in at ten, if you’d like to go outside to prepare.

James nodded and thanked her again before exiting to the pitch.

“Took you long enough!” Marlene shouted, pouncing on him as he exited the locker room. “We don’t have much time left! Come on, everyone’s in the center for a meeting, waiting for you.”

“All right, all right,” James said, walking with her to the middle of the pitch, “Do you have everything ready for the Seeker tryout?”

Marlene nodded, “All the supplies for Seeker Golf are in that box by the wall,” Marlene said, pointing over to said box.

“’Seeker Golf, eh?” James questioned, and Marlene smiled.

“That’s what we called it this summer. It’s a great drill, but honestly it’s such a fun game as well. We should try it sometime during practice, I bet I’d clobber you.”

“We?” James asked. Marlene blushed, and James wondered if Marlene had a boyfriend. If so, Sirius would be severely disappointed.

“Yeah, uh-me and…my dad. My dad, he’s the one who made up Seeker Golf. He played Seeker in school and that helped him practice during the summers.”

James was sure there was more to the story, but he and Marlene had arrived at the center, and the rest of the team was upon them.

“All right lads,” James said, and Marlene coughed pointedly, “and lady. It’s show time. Did you get the bats, Gideon?”

Gideon nodded, “I got seven from the shed, they’re under the hoops now. I stuck the bludger crates and targets next to them as well.”

“Perfect,” James praised, and Gideon grinned.

“I put the cricket bat and ball there as well,” Nigel piped up, and James nodded, “Did you want the wicket set up, James, for when you’re pitching?”

“No, I don’t think I’ll need it, and it’s not as though we’re actually playing cricket today. We should be fine. Kenneth, do you have the clipboard? McGonagall told me there are seventeen people out there.

Kenneth raised the clipboard to show James before writing down the numbers with a muggle pen. Kenneth was a half-blood, and often tried to assimilate magical and muggle culture to make tasks easier.

“All right then, I think….I think we’re ready.”

As James said it, he looked around to find that beyond their huddle the field had become populated by black masked people in jerseys. James watched as Professor McGonagall exited the locker room door behind jersey number 3, and nodded straight at him. James nodded back and let out a whistle, motioning for the people dispersed throughout the pitch to join them.

His throat felt dry as sandpaper as he looked about the masked faces, all of them staring to him for direction. For a moment, he wondered which one was Sirius, before banishing the thought from his head.

 _They’re numbers_ , he told himself. _Right now they’re numbers. If you spend the whole time trying to figure out which one is Sirius, all of this will have been for nothing._

James explained the masks and the tryout, before asking if anyone had any questions. When nobody spoke up, James moved on to the fly-about the pitch and running through the drills.

Gideon and Kenneth had asked if the drills were really necessary, for making everyone do them could be a waste of time, but after watching them James was sincerely glad he’d made the contenders run the drills. He just hoped beyond hope that Sirius was not number 3, 12, or 17.

After the three were dismissed, James divided the Seekers and the Beaters, and moved on to the main Beater tryout. He’d considered doing Seekers first, but decided that Beaters were (obviously) the tryout he was most nervous for, and it’d be best to just get it over with.

Eight people walked over to the north end of the pitch with James, Gideon, Marlene, and Kenneth. Eight tall, for the most part burly, and strong people, all contending for one position. James gulped before speaking once again.

“All right everyone, line up behind Marlene please.” The eight did as he asked. James watched as Marlene handed the first in line, number 6, the cricket bat, before throwing the familiar red ball over to James.

“You won’t be needing your brooms right now, so please lay them down behind you.” There were some grumbles of confusion and apprehension at that statement, but James continued, undeterred. “We’re going to be testing your power first. Each player will be getting exactly five pitches from me, which they are tasked to hit as hard as they can with the cricket bat. Kenneth and Gideon will be taking notes on each of you, and once you’ve all gone through, we’ll let you know who gets to move on to the next task. Any questions?”

“Yeah,” cackled number 1, fourth down the line. “What if you throw us a bad pitch?”

James refrained from rolling his eyes. He almost said there wouldn’t be any bad pitches, because he was the one pitching, but he didn’t.

Instead, he explained calmly, “If Marlene and I judge a pitch to be a bad one, you’ll get an extra.” 1 nodded, seeming placated….for now.

James suddenly jumped as a cacophony of positively evil laughter reached them from the other side of the pitch. It sounded awful, like Death Eaters had made camp there. It sort of looked like it, too, what with the black masks and all. It was distracting, and horrible, and James shot icy daggers through his eyes at Nigel, willing him to make them stop this nonsense so the Beaters (and, more importantly, Sirius) could concentrate.

Then, James began. He couldn’t help but be impressed by some of the hits these people made; more than a few went into the stands. Numbers 15 and 1 actually hit balls _out_ of the stands. Once everyone was through and had had their five (only five, because James _didn’t_ throw bad pitches. He was a great bowler), Kenneth, Gideon, and Marlene jogged to meet James in the center.

Kenneth was looking over his notes. Marlene was looking over at the people. Gideon was looking at James.

“11, 2 and 8 need to go,” Gideon said immediately, and Kenneth nodded in agreement, looking up from his notes.

“I’d say it’s between 1 and 15 at this point,” Marlene said, and James looked at her sharply.

“Don’t judge too quickly,” James said.

“Yeah, we don’t even know if they can aim yet. Power’s no good if you can’t choose where you direct it.” Gideon agreed. James couldn’t help but think the words applied to many more situations in life than just quidditch.

“All right, so 11, 2 and 8 go? We’re all on the same page?” Nods all around, and Kenneth walked over to give the two the bad news.

As the three sulked over to the locker room, James called the five remaining Beaters to their huddle.

“Okay, now Gideon is going to demonstrate the next task.” Everyone watched as Gideon picked up a Beater’s bat, threw the red ball up to himself, and whacked it over to the target Marlene just finished setting up fifty feet away, hitting it squarely in the middle.

“Each of you gets three tries to hit the target. If you don’t hit it, you’re done.” James said.

Of the five left, 1, 9 and 15 hit the target. 6 and 14 did not. They trudged off the field willingly, without being dismissed.

“Brilliant. All right you three, this is where things get interesting. You’ll need your brooms now.” The three ran back to grab their brooms before coming back to listen again. “The target is going to be flying around the field,” and with a flick of James’s wand, the target was in the air, “And, we’re going to release the bludgers. Your goal is to hit the target with a bludger first.”

The three nodded, and James continued, “The tricky part is, Kenneth with be flying around with the quaffle while you’re trying to hit the target. Kenneth cannot get hit by a bludger. As you’re trying to hit the target, you are also trying to protect Kenneth. Got it?” They nodded again.

“Okay then,” James said simply, indicated that the three and Kenneth should take off. Across the field, Marlene released the bludgers, and James looked back to ensure the charm he’d put on the target to make it fly was still working.

1 and 9 took off like madmen, each racing around the field trying to find one of the bludgers as though it was the snitch. 15 was the smart one, in James’s opinion. He tailed Kenneth, giving him enough room to move, but remained close enough that when a bludger came, he’d be prepared.

And prepared 15 was. When not one, but two bludgers came careening at Kenneth at the same time, 15 stepped inside and hit them both in succession, each smashing one after the other into the middle of the target below them.

James watched as 15 punched his fists in the air in triumph, watched as he floated to the ground. James’s heart sped up, and he looked at 15 as he hadn’t allowed himself to look at them before. 15 was tall certainly, but as tall as Sirius? James wasn’t sure. And with the baggy jersey on, 15 looked wide and bulky, much larger than Sirius’s lithe frame.

Completely uncertain as to who would be pulling off the mask, James walked forward, schooling his features into a neutral expression. If it wasn’t Sirius, he couldn’t act disappointed here. He was in charge, it would be mean and unprofessional. Plus, no matter what his team was adding an excellent Beater to the roster.

With a deep breath, James approached 15 and stuck out his hand.

“Congratulations, 15. Impressive display today. We would love it if--,” James began, but he was quickly interrupted.

“Prongs, it’s me!” a deep voice said, and 15 pulled off his mask to reveal the ecstatic face of the one and only Sirius Black.

James felt his mouth drop open in shock. The knot at the pit of his stomach finally unwound itself, and James truly grinned for the first time that day. Sirius did it.

He did it.

Sirius was the new Gryffindor Beater.

 “Yes!” James shouted, as he embraced his best friend, “Oh, this is brilliant,” James said, still pounding Sirius wildly on the back. He finally released him, and both watched as the rest of the team walked over to congratulate Sirius on his new position.

“Congratulations, Sirius,” Marlene said with a pretty smile, and James watched as Sirius Black, suave, cool Sirius Black, actually blushed. That’s when James knew his friend was just as shocked and out of sorts by this turn of events as he was.

“Thanks, Marley,” Sirius answered her. Gideon clapped him on the back, and Nigel and Kenneth took turns shaking his hand.

“I was hoping it’d be you,” Gideon said happily. “I can’t say I’m very surprised, you’ve always been talented on a broom. We’re going to have some fun together this year, Black.” At that, Sirius looked up quickly, as though he’d forgotten something, and stared directly at James, grin on his face.

“That reminds me. James, you’re not going to _believe_ who’s trying out for Seeker today. I didn’t even know she flew. But honestly, I won’t be surprised if she ends up making the team--,” Sirius said, and James looked at him, puzzled.

“James, the Seekers want you,” Marlene interrupted quickly, and James looked up to see number 13 waving their arms at him across the pitch.

 “Oi! Potter! Will we get our turn soon?” Number 13 shouted. James felt himself blush as he jogged across the field. Swept up in the excitement of Sirius’s victory, he’d kind of forgotten about Nigel and the six remaining Seekers.

 “Er, yes, sorry about that, your turn now. Because you’ve had a bit of a break, we’ll give you ten minutes to stretch and fly a bit to get warmed-up before we start your try-outs, yeah?” James watched a few of the Seekers start flying around and stretching out, whilst he and Nigel went to retrieve the golf balls and slingshot across the pitch.

“All ready then? Great, let’s get started. Our first drill’s what my friend likes to call ‘Seeker Golf’,” he said, and at that, James saw number 7 actually jump up in surprise and clutch their hands together tightly. He held back a grin at their obvious excitement. He wondered if the person knew Marlene…

“During Seeker Golf, the Seeker will fly around in the air above us, while I shoot a golf ball,” James said, holding up one of the golden golf balls, “From this slingshot. You need to catch the ball before it hits the ground. It’ll be best of five for each of you.”

The first Seeker wasn’t very impressive, only catching two out of the five balls. The second, James’s new friend number 13, caught four of the five. James found himself wishing someone would beat them.

And James found his wish granted with the next Seeker, the excited Lucky Number 7. She (for James was pretty sure it must be a girl, otherwise a very young boy) caught his first three balls with ease. Looking to challenge her, James aimed long, but pulled the slingshot short. 7 swooped right in literally under his nose and swiped the ball right out of the air.

James couldn’t help but grin. Impressed by number 7, the last ball he shot was a long one, nearly a line drive. 7 put on the speed to reach it, slightly trailing the ball all the way across the pitch. James felt himself frowning as he realized 7 had a bad angle, and probably would be able to turn around to catch the ball.

That didn’t matter to 7. James watched in openmouthed shock as she rolled herself in midair, catching the ball upside down mid roll, before settling upright once again and immediately shooting upward to avoid hitting the wall.

Yes, he was very impressed by Lucky Number 7.

The rest of the competitors weren’t anything compared to 7, until the last one, number 5. By the skin of his teeth, 5 ended up catching all five balls. After his performance, James dismissed the rest of the field besides 7.

“All right then,” James said, a sly smirk on his face, “Here’s where it really gets fun. Marlene and I are going to blindfold both of you,” James took the strip of fabric Marlene had given him, and stooped down to tie the fabric around number 7’s head. 7 was really very short, nearly a foot shorter than James. And she was definitely a girl, for this close to her James could smell something flowery and…familiar? Maybe it was lavender.

 “Okay, then,” James continued quickly, stepping away from 7, “Neither of you can see, right?” Both 7 and 5 shook their heads. “Perfect. Marlene is releasing the Snitch right now, we’ll give it a minute to fly about. I’ll count down from three, and when I say ‘go’, take off your blindfold and get on your broom. First one to catch the snitch will be our new Seeker.”

At his command, Marlene walked over to the nearby trunk and released the snitch. Marlene was watching 7 very closely, James realized, a slight smile on her face as she observed the way 7 was picking her nails, and dancing from one foot to the other with nerves.

 “Three….Two….One….GO!” James shouted, and he watch excitedly as 7 and 5 ripped off their blindfolds and quickly mounted their brooms. 7 had a slight edge on 5 to begin with, but that didn’t end up mattering. The snitch was nowhere in sight.

For fifteen minutes the Gryffindor quidditch team stood on the pitch, silently watching the two seekers aimlessly search for the little glint of gold. James was getting bored. Normally during this part of the match, he’d be playing Chaser, scoring goals only to look up and realize the snitch was being caught and the game was over. This was a bit boring, to be honest.

Just as he thought that, however, a flurry of motion erupted above them. 7 was diving full pelt toward the locker room door, and 5, realizing she must have seen the snitch, was hurrying after her, futilely attempting to catch her.

Except, when James looked toward the locker room door from his perspective, the snitch wasn’t in sight.

“It’s by the goalposts,” Kenneth said quietly, and everybody looked up at him before starting at the north goalposts to realize that he was correct.

“Then what are they--,”Nigel questioned, but Marlene interrupted him.

“She’s pulling a Wronski Feint,” she said in awe, and everyone watched, openmouthed, as 7 approached the wall at full speed, rolled herself over and timed it perfectly so 5 flew into the wall just inches above her, and turned while kicking off the wall to hurtle toward the northern goal posts.

James didn’t get the chance to watch 7 catch the snitch. Instead he and a few others were running toward the spot where 5 lay flat on the ground.

“Are you all right?” James called worriedly, as Kenneth offered 5 a hand.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” the deep voice said, before the mask was pulled off to reveal the bloodied face of seventh year Frank Longbottom.

James patted him on the back, ““Good show today, Frank. We’ll have you on the reserve roster, feel free to stop by practice whenever you like.” Frank nodded, before approaching number 7, who had just landed nearby to congratulate her. James couldn’t help but admire how very kind and amiable a person Frank was; James didn’t think he could do the same and be so sincere right after losing.

“All right, Lucky Number 7, it’s about time we know who our new teammate is,” James said, clapping her on the back. As she reached up to pull the mask off her face, James found himself very excited. Who could this mystery Seeker be? He wondered if it was the same girl Sirius was surprised to see at tryouts….

“YEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!!!!!” Someone screeched, and suddenly Marlene ran for number 7, looking as though she would tackle her to the ground. Instead Marlene hugged her tightly, spinning her around in circles. The girl had long, dark red hair, but that was all James could see of her until…

“I’m gonna be sick, Marley,” James heard the girl mumble in a soft, lilting voice, and Marlene laughed out loud, but set her down. James felt his stomach swoop, and land somewhere down by his feet.

It was Lily Evans.

Lily Evans was the new Gryffindor seeker.

Marlene continued to gush about how proud she was of Lily, and everyone else on the team went to congratulate her except for James. He found himself actually frozen from the shock of it all. Lily Evans played quidditch. Lily Evans was excellent at quidditch.

Lily Evans was possibly the world’s most perfect woman.

“You didn’t tell me you could play quidditch!” James heard Gideon say in faux anger.

“I didn’t know I was any good until a month ago,” Lily said with a shrug of her shoulders. The statement shocked everyone present into silence. She’d been playing quidditch for a _month_ and she was that good. James wondered if it was possible to be prodigy on a broomstick.

“See, Prongs,” Sirius finally said, coming behind James and clapping him on the back, “She is the most stubborn and surprising person you will ever meet in your life. Aren’t you, Lily?” Sirius asked with a grin, and Lily shrugged her shoulders again, her bright greens eyes scrunched up and squinty from the huge smile on her face.

A smile directed at James.

Well, and probably Sirius, too, but it was the thought that Lily Evans was smiling at him that finally unfroze James, and urged him forward to offer her his hand.

 “Welcome to the team then, Lucky Number 7. We’re happy to have you around.”

Lily took the proffered hand. Her hand was small, but her grasp in his firm and warm.

“Thanks, James. I’m happy to be here.”

******

The first match is in November, against Slytherin. James doesn’t sleep the night before, nervous as he is for his first match as captain.

He need not have worried. He barely has the chance to score two goals before Lily has swooped down and caught the snitch from under Regulus Black’s foot. James thinks it must be some kind of Hogwarts record for the shortest match ever.

James pretends to be angry that the match was so short, but secretly he’s rather elated.

The second match is in February, on a blustery, cold day against Hufflepuff. With the wind and snow, it takes both Seekers an hour and a half to spot the snitch. James watches as Lily narrowly beats Macmillan to the snitch, but is hit in the head by a bludger right after she catches it. James dives, and catches her rather dramatically before she hits the ground, himself nearly in tears from the blood on her face and the fact that she refuses to wake up.

James sneaks to the hospital wing that night to sit with her, and can’t help but grin when he wakes the next morning to her slender fingers playing with his hair.

The third match is in May, against Ravenclaw. In order to win not just the match, but the cup as well, James tell Lily she must wait until Gryffindor is up by seventy points to catch the snitch.

James knows the wait will be agony for her, but the team works hard to make it as short as possible. Within forty minutes, Gryffindor is up by seventy, and James gives Lily a thumbs up from across the field.

Immediately, James sees Lily diving toward the locker room door, just as she had so many months ago, and James already knows what’s going to happen next.

So when Lily catches the snitch at the top of the northern goalposts, James is there first. James pulls her into a crushing hug.

James kisses her in midair in front of the entire school.

Marlene says it was destiny. Sirius says we make our own destinies.

All James knows is, when it comes to Lily Evans, the rest is history.

 


End file.
